


Eyes Wide Open

by ForeverAndAlways22



Category: Captain America
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-08-27
Updated: 2016-08-27
Packaged: 2018-08-11 07:25:14
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 5,582
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7882072
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ForeverAndAlways22/pseuds/ForeverAndAlways22
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Maya Henderson is blind, living in bustling New York City, refusing to be "disabled" in the way everyone seems to want her to be. So she goes about her daily life, until one day she-literally- runs into Steve Rogers. <br/>  She finds herself falling for the man she doesn't know is Captain America, the only one besides her sister who sees her as more than a pair of blind eyes. He finds himself falling for the one person he can be himself around, who isn't just obsessed with the World's First Superhero. <br/>  How can Maya navigate the labyrinth that is love without her sight to guide her?</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

   I strode around my coffee shop, pushing in any chairs I bumped into and wiping down tables, turning off lights. Seven thirty in the evening. Time to go home.   
  I finished cleaning up and headed out the door, locking it as I left before turning and walking down the familiar road, concentrating hard. I knew the route well, but one wrong turn was all it took to get lost, and being lost really sucked when you were blind. Trust me.   
  As I walked, counting my steps as best I could, following the flow of people down a path I traveled every day. I had no guide dog, not even my cane. My sister Claire hated this; it made her scared, she said, to think of me without a way of seeing my surroundings. But I detested the cane, and more often than not I left it in my room at the apartment she and I shared. I would be alright without it.   
   I walked faster, ready to get home. It had been a rough day running the shop. I just wanted to curl up in bed and listen to an audiobook. Audiobooks were my friends. So much easier than Braille.   
  Turning a corner, I felt someone smack into me, sending me flying to the ground with an oof. I struggled to sit up, gasping to regain the air that had rushed out of my lungs.   
  "Hey!" I said indignantly once I could.   
  "Ma'am, I am so sorry. Are you all right?" Came a voice from above me. It was a nice voice, deep and smooth and friendly, but worried, anxious that he'd hurt me. I really liked his voice.   
  What? It's not weird. When you're blind, voices are important. That's how you get your first impression of people.   
I realized I hadn't responded yet. "Um, yeah. I'm fine." I stretched out a hand and he took it, pulling me to my feet. I stood and brushed myself off.   
The man was still apologizing. "I'm so sorry. I should've been watching where I was going more carefully, I should've-"   
I cut him off. "Hey. It's okay. It's as much my fault as yours. Are you okay?"   
"Yes ma'am. But are you sure-"   
"Yes. I'm fine." I let go of his hand and made to start walking, but then realized I'd gotten turned around during my fall and no longer knew which way was which. I stood, confused, and he seemed to pick up on it, saying worriedly, "Ma'am, are you alright? Do you need anything?"   
I began to say no, but stopped myself. "Yes, actually. I don't know which way I'm facing anymore, so I'm a bit lost. If you could point me in the direction I was walking in when we collided, that would be great."   
"What?" He asked, obviously confused. I gave him a sad little smile. "I'm blind."   
He was silent for a minute and I began to wonder if he'd left, but he spoke again. "Oh. Alright then. Can you get home all right? I can walk you."   
My cheeks flushed. "Oh no, that's okay. Just tell me which way I was facing and I've got it from there," I protested.   
  "I just ran into you and knocked you over, causing you to fall and scrape yourself." He replied. Ah yes, now that he mentioned it, I was bleeding a bit in my lower leg. "I think I kind of owe it to you to make sure you get home safely, especially since I'm the one who got you lost."   
   I relented. "All right."  
   I felt him shift uncertainly in front of me. "How do I...?" My mind was blank. What was he talking about?  
Oh! It hit me. He didn't know how to walk with a blind person. Of course. "Well just do the standard lead," I said. "Hold your arm out. I'll grab your elbow." He did so, and I grasped his arm. It was very firm, very muscled; I had to keep my fingers from exploring it a bit. I put that strange urge down to blind person weirdness as well.   
  He set off down the way I'd been going, walking at the perfect pace. Not too fast, not too slow. Nothing that made it difficult or awkward to walk while holding his arm. That automatically made me like him better. Most of the time, people either go way to slow, crawling along until you just want to strangle them, or practically sprint with you on their arm, and it's terrifying. This guy, whoever he was, was one of the few who got it right. It was rare.   
I told him where my apartment building was. In hindsight, probably not a great idea, but he seemed alright. And he didn't know which of the many apartments I lived in. We walked in silence for several minutes before we reached the building. I let go of his arm and stepped back slightly, toward the doorway.   
"Thanks for walking me back. I really appreciate it...?" I trailed off, realizing I didn't know this guy's name. He realized it too.   
"Steve Rogers," he said. I smiled and responded.   
"Nice to meet you, Steve. I'm Maya Henderson." I turned to leave but he called after me, "Wait!"   
I faced him again. "What?"  
He fidgeted slightly. "Well...um...can I see you again sometime?" From the sound of his voice, he was probably blushing. I grinned. "Sure. Do you want my phone number?"   
"Yes. That would be great."  
I rattled it off and he entered it into his phone. Taking a few steps toward the door, I called over my shoulder, "Until next time, then, Steve Rogers."   
"See you later, Maya Henderson," he responded. I could hear the smile in his voice and I matched it, waving one last time and entering the apartment building.   
It wasn't long before I was knocking on the door of my apartment. Actually, our apartment; I shared with my sister, Claire, who opened the door and instantly bombarded me with questions.   
"Who was that man? Where did you meet him? Why haven't I met him before? What's he like? What happened today? Do you finally have a boyfriend? Honestly, it's been too long, Maya! This is great!"  
I cut her off, walking inside and settling into the couch. "Claire, chill. He's not my boyfriend. I've known him for all of twenty minutes. We ran into each other when when I left the shop and then he walked me home because he felt bad for knocking me over. Also, were you spying on me?"   
Claire was not going to be deterred. "Maybe a little from our window. I couldn't see much; I was three floors up. But he looked like total eye candy, huh?"  
"I wouldn't know." I said, shrugging.  
Claire was silent for a moment. "I'm sorry, Maya. I shouldn't have said that."  
I waved it off. "It's okay. No big deal." But it was. Six years since the accident and I still wasn't over it. Sometimes I wish I'd been blind since birth. After all, you can't miss what you've never had.   
   Claire understands. She was there.  
   She's chattering again, talking about how he looked talk and strong and handsome and did I get his number? Because I really should have. I smile. She's always able to make me smile. Even when I'm remembering.   
  "No, Claire, I didn't get his number. But I gave him mine, so he'll probably call me. But I'm not looking for a boyfriend, and I don't think he's looking for a girlfriend, either. He didn't try to flirt at all."  
  Claire sounded amused. "He will soon." She promised, sounding completely certain. However, like the chatterbox she is, she'd soon moved on to another subject, jumping from topic to topic like a butterfly, or a rabbit on a sugar high. Either way, I leaned back and let her words wash over me, Steve Rogers forgotten between us. For now.


	2. Chapter 2

      I didn't hear from Steve again for about three weeks, and had just about forgotten about him, when we had another chance meeting, right when I least expected it. Again.   
    I was working at my coffee shop, dealing with annoying customers and equally annoying employees. Actually, employee. My only current helper was an obnoxiously bubbly teenager named Carly. The cheerleader type, bouncy and cheerful and overly excited about everything. She, along with the customers I was dealing with, was grating on my nerves.   
  The current customer was a middle aged lady, getting baked goods, it seemed, for everyone she knew. And being extremely particular about her drink.   
"And a chocolate chip cookie..that's for my little nephew...actually make that two cuz he has a sister...and a muffin for my daughter...and a croissant for my sister...a chocolate croissant, now, get it right..." She droned on and on, finally finishing. I forced a smile as I put all her items in a box. "Of course, ma'am. And to drink?"   
I instantly regretted asking. "Yes, honey, I would like a caramel honey vanilla medium iced coffee with whipped cream...no that's too much...no a little more...there you go honey. Do you have almond milk? No? No almond milk? Really, child, you need to get that. Well regular milk will do if it must. And two drops of hazelnut flavoring...actually three, yes three sounds good. And a bit of cinnamon powder...just a bit...no that's not right...not that either...there you go! And put the straw a little off-center. Eh. Well I suppose that will do." I handed her the drink, thankful that I'd taken the time to memorize where every ingredient was. She paid and left after complaining about how I put too much cream, and how I should really have a skim or almond milk option. Finally I heard the door close, signaling her departure. I breathed a sigh of relief. Thank goodness she was gone.   
Still annoyed, I turned back to the counter to the next customer.   
"Hello. What can I get for you?" I said, forcing a smile that probably looked like a grimace. I prayed to God that this next person would not push me to strangle them. I'd only barely held back with Almond Milk Woman.   
  "Maya?" Came a voice in front of me. A voice I recognized. Steve was the next customer!   
  "Steve! Hey! How are you?"   
  "I'm good. Are you busy?"   
  I shrugged. "That depends. How many people are in the line behind you?"  
  "Three."   
   "In that case, Carly can handle them. Can I get you anything?" I asked. "Although, if you ask for an off-center straw and complain about my lack of almond milk, I just might lose it," I warned. He had to know what he was getting into.   
   Steve laughed, a rich, warm sound. Like the deep tone of a cello. Beautiful. I could bask in it all day.   
  He spoke, drawing me back to reality, where people do not bask in the laughter of near-strangers. "A small black coffee, please."   
  I smiled. "You're my favorite customer." Filling up a paper cup with fresh coffee and snapping on the lid, I handed it to him. He paid, and I grabbed a water for myself, calling to my one present employee, "Carly! I'm taking a break for a few minutes. Handle it. I'm trusting you here; don't hurt my baby." At her affirmative hum, I walked over to a table in the far corner with Steve, plopping down into a chair and sighing.   
  I heard him take a seat. "Rough day?"   
  I groaned. "You have no idea. Did you hear Almond Woman?"   
  He chuckled. Again with the laugh, man! He'd have to tone it down before I accidentally said something weird.   
  "Yeah. I heard her. Really something, wasn't she?"  
  "Tell me about it. And she was the fifth person like that today! You have no idea how nice it is to have someone order a plain coffee. Thank you."  
  I heard his smile in his voice. "You're welcome." He was silent for a moment. "So is this your shop?"   
   I nodded. "Yep. I'm a small business owner. I built this place up from the ground, and most if the time it's great. Really took a hit after that alien fiasco a few months ago, but we recovered really well." I thought I felt him flinch, but couldn't imagine why, so I dismissed the thought. My four remaining senses weren't often wrong, but nothing was infallible.   
  "It looks hard," he said, sounding admirable. "How do you do it? Especially, you know..." He trailed off, sounding uncertain.   
   "I know what?" I smirked, fairly certain I knew what he was going to say. I could almost feel him blushing.   
   "Being blind and all," he finished awkwardly. Bingo. I usually hated it when people brought it up, since they were always condescending or patronizing, or, even worse, pitying. But Steve seemed genuinely curious, interested. So I answered him.   
  "Well, usually I have more help, but everyone but Carly cancelled on me today. And running a business without my eyesight was hard at first, but then again, everything is hard at first. I just memorize where everything is, and keep it that way. If anything is moved, my employees help me out. Only my regulars even know I'm blind."   
  Steve took that in. "Wow." And he really sounded impressed. I smiled. "But enough about me. Tell me about yourself. What do you do for a living?"  
  He was silent for a moment. "Umm...I'm in the army," he finally said. I raised my eyebrows. "Wow. Much more exciting than my coffee shop life," I teased. He let out a sigh. "You could say that."   
   I could tell he didn't enjoy the topic. I moved on. "So what do you like to do in your free time?"   
  Another fidget. Another hesitation. Did the guy not have free time? It didn't usually take people this kind to answer a question about their interests.   
  "I like to draw," he finally said. "And read and work out, I guess. But especially drawing. I keep a sketchbook."   
   "Cool," I said. "What kind of stuff so you draw?"   
   "Pencil sketches," he replied. "Of anything, really. Whatever I feel like I need to capture, to save or hold on to. It goes in the sketchbook. What about you?" He asked. "What kind if things do you enjoy doing?"   
   I grinned. "Well, for one, I can't draw to save my life. Never could. So cherish the talent; people like me wish we had it." I false moped, causing him to laugh again, which sent another warm glow to my stomach. His laugh was truly beautiful.   
  "I love audiobooks; those are my best friends. I like to listen to music as well. I can play the cello, though I haven't in years. I like running as well. And I've  always wanted to go zip lining," I mused. He chuckled and I my stomach fluttered. I wanted to stay, to make him laugh some more, to hear his laugh sine more, but I heard Carly calling me. I cursed under my breath and stood up, reluctant to leave. But this was my job, and she sounded panicked.   
   "Sorry, Steve." I said. "I have to go. Duty calls." I jerked my head towards the counter. He stood up as well.   
   "I have to go now as well." He sounded slightly unwilling, just like I felt. Neither one of us wanted to leave.   
   "You still have my number, though, right?" I asked.   
   "Yeah."   
   "Awesome. Call me anytime," I said, just as I head Carly call me again. I turned away, promptly knocking into a chair that some idiot had forgotten to push in. I mumbled a curse and pushed in the chair.   
   "Bye Steve!" I called, heading back to my workstation.   
    "Bye Maya," I faintly heard him call and I smiled as I turned my mind to whatever crisis Carly needed me to solve now.


	3. Chapter 3

  I didn't see Steve for a few weeks after that. Actually, I didn't see him at all, but you get my meaning. He would call, reasonably often, and we would talk about anything and everything. He was the first friend I'd had since high school, and the only person I could talk to besides Claire, the only one who didn't tune me out the moment they heard I was blind. He didn't make big deal out of it, which was nice. If he pitied me, he never told me about it, which was fine by me. This was a real breath of fresh air.   
   Sometimes he would disappear, though. One day, two days, sometimes up to a week of silence. He wouldn't call, wouldn't answer his phone when I called. And then he'd be back, sounding tired but in no large way out of the ordinary. I wondered in the privacy of my own mind, but I never questioned it to his face. I was sure he had his reasons, and he'd tell me if he wanted me to know.  
  Claire teased me endlessly, though. I guess she has to, being my older sister and, well, being Claire. It was her role to fill to endlessly ask me when we would date. It was my role to keep rolling my eyes and telling her we were just friends, not that she ever listened.   
  Life carried on in this way. It was nice, but as the days passed, my mood began to sink. Why? My birthday tomorrow, and Claire hasn't said anything. Not a hint that she even remembered. Birthdays were hard; they were the days my parents would devote to me, with music and cake and ice cream and lavished attention. I missed them more on my birthday. Of course, I hadn't had that in six years, but it was unlike Claire to just forget and now, with Mom and Dad gone, there was no one else in the world to remember.   
With one day until I turned twenty-three, I found myself talking less, giving shorter responses. Maybe it was juvenile of me, but if she wasn't gonna remember, I wasn't gonna remind her.   
Then one day I left my phone at home.   
•••••••••••••••••••  
Steve dialed Maya's number. He'd just come back from a mission, and he always called her as soon as possible when he returned. He knew she must wonder about his silences, when he would disappear on a mission from SHIELD for any amount of time. He couldn't tell her, wouldn't tell her, didn't know how to tell her, but he always called her when he got back, to reassure himself that he wasn't alone.   
He heard the phone ring once, twice, three times before someone picked up.   
"Hello?" Came a voice that he didn't recognize.   
"Who is this?" He said, puzzled. He was sure he didn't have a wrong number, but this wasn't Maya.   
"Who is this?" Came the voice, sounding just as confused as him.   
"Steve Rogers." Steve said warily. He heard a loud exclamation as the person on the other end began talking animatedly.   
"Oh! Steve! Yeah, I wondered who it was. Not many people have Maya's number, you know. She doesn't have many friends. Don't tell her I said that, though. Actually, go ahead. I've said it to her before. And I know she doesn't have a boyfriend, unless she's living some crazy double life that I know nothing about, which isn't likely but I suppose anything's possible, right? I don't think I've actually spoken to you before, even though you're the Steve she's always on the phone with. This is cool!"   
Steve was silent for a minute, trying to digest everything this woman was saying. She talked like a machine gun, loudly, rapidly, not stopping until she ran out of ammunition. It was a little overwhelming. He finally spoke.   
"It's nice to meet you. And who are you, exactly?"   
"Oh!" She said again. "Sorry! I got a little off topic. I'm Claire Henderson. Maya is my little sister. She left her phone at home today, and since I work from our apartment, I heard it ringing and answered it! You know, she's been out of sorts lately. Maybe I've forgotten to mention her birthday again. I sometimes can't tell the difference in what I actually say and what I only say in my head-"  
Steve cut her off. "Birthday?"  
••••••••••••••••••••  
   The next day I stood in my coffee shop, which was quiet. Only the low him of my regulars broke the silence.   
   I sighed, leaning against the back wall behind the counter. Happy birthday to me, I thought. And what a great birthday it was. No cake, no presents, no "happy birthday" from anyone. Not even Claire. I'd given up hope. All I wanted was for someone to play music, to bring cake, basically to acknowledge that I'd existed for another year and that they had noticed. I supposed I could turn on the radio and buy myself a cake, but it wasn't the same. I sank down onto the ground, sighing again. You know your life is sad when no one remembers your birthday.  
   I heard the door open and people walk in, but I was so deep in self pity that I didn't call out my usual greeting. If they wanted coffee, they could come get it.   
  But when it had been a few minutes and no one had approached the counter, I stood up, confused. I was about to ask if anyone wanted anything when, out of nowhere, I heard music. Glorious, loud, melodious music that washed over me instantly, submerging me and lifting me up all at once in the way only music can do. I could tell it was coming from inside my coffee shop, but had no idea who was playing it. At the moment, though, I didn't care. I spread my arms wide and drank it in. I loved music.   
  In a few minutes, however, the song ended. I was grinning, still confused, as I began to call out, "Who-"   
  I was cut off as the band struck up another song, this time one I recognized. A song I'd given up hope that anyone would be singing for me today. Everyone in the cafeteria joined in as two people took hold of my arms, leading me to a table and sitting me down as they sang "Happy Birthday." I recognized the voices of the two people. My eyes were wet with tears of happiness. "Steve? Claire?"   
  Claire laughed and set something down in front of me. "Happy birthday sis. We got your favorite. Make a wish and blow out the candles!"   
  I gave a little shriek of happiness and blew, before taking the piece cut for me and taking a bite. I groaned blissfully, lost in the heaven that was chocolate cake. Claire definitely knew my favorite.   
  I heard them take seats next to me and begin passing out pieces of cake to everyone in the shop, which wasn't many at this time of day. When I'd finished my cake, I smiled more widely than I thought possible and said, "You guys, thanks so much. How did you do it? Who's playing music? And where did this all come from? I was sure Claire had forgotten, and Steve, how could you know when my birthday was?"   
   "I didn't until you left your phone at home and I tried to call you," Steve replied. "Claire picked up and somewhere in the barrage of words I found out your birthday was tomorrow."   
   "I didn't forget," cut in Claire. Steve continued.   
   "So we planned and I got the Purple Platypuses to come play here. We spent a lot of time talking. Claire did most of it though." He finished modestly. Claire snorted.   
  "Don't believe it for a minute," she said. "Steve here planned everything. The party was all his idea. And the music, and the ice cream. He also got the band to come. All I did was tell him you liked chocolate cake."   
  "Woah now." I held up a hand. "You said you have ice cream?"   
   "Yep," said Claire. "Mint Oreo."   
   I grinned and she dished out some and handed it too me. I devoured it. Ice cream was so good.   
   I finished quickly and smiled even wider. "Thank you guys so much. This is amazing." Just then the band-The Purple Platypuses?- struck up another song. A Taylor Swift cover. "Sweeter Than Fiction."   
I opened my mouth to speak, but Claire anticipated my question and cut me off. "Steve remembered that you said it was your favorite," she said. I laid my hand on Steve's arm. "Thank you, Steve," I said. "Thank you both. This is so sweet and thoughtful. I'm so lucky to have both of you."   
Elated, I sat back and let the music wash over me, enjoying my birthday with the two most important people in my life by my side.


	4. Chapter 4

  I strode down the streets of New York, soaking in the sun's heat and the flowing energy that was as much a part of this city as its name. Today was my self-prescribed day off; I would spend it in search of adventure.   
  In all honesty, I had no idea what I was doing. Normally, I spent my days off curled up on my couch, listening to audiobooks, eating sweets, and napping. But for whatever reason, today I felt spontaneous. I felt confident, willing to take in the world. I felt like the person I used to be, back when my eyes still worked.   
  Actually, now that I thought about it, recently I'd been feeling a lot more like that girl, like the old me. Unafraid of the world. I'd been coming out of my shell. The though unnerved me.   
  Because, in reality, the world is a dangerous place, especially when you're blind. It was so much easier to hide, to go about daily life with no changes in routine. After a while, you almost forgot what life was like before, when you weren't afraid of trying something new. You become a creature of habit.   
  But then I'd met Steve. Steve who was now my closest friend, besides Claire. Steve who ran into me. Steve who helped me up and made sure I got home safely. Steve who was a perfect gentleman to a complete stranger.   
  This wasn't what I was used to. It made me nervous, because there had to be a catch. No one does things like that for free, no one helps a blind girl get home without some gain for themselves. Maybe he wanted to look good in front of someone, maybe he pitied me, maybe he wanted to be able to brag about what a great person he was to his friends later. I was suspicious.   
  But as time passed and I got to know him better, I realized that he really was that selfless. This shocked me. I didn't think people like him existed anymore.   
  But he opened me up, but by bit. I don't even think he knew he was doing it. Just being around him taught me that not everything outside is out to get you. Not everything is dangerous. And though I was a long way from being who I used to be, without a doubt, I wasn't as afraid.   
   So here I was, walking down a street in an unknown, unmemorized part of New York, alone under the heat of a sun whose light meant nothing to me. I didn't know what was going to happen, what might occur. I didn't know the area, wasn't counting my steps. I had no idea what was in the buildings I passed, my only indication being the calls of street vendors.   
  And the crazy thing was, I was okay with that.  
••••••••••••••••••  
A little under an hour later, I was still walking. I'd stopped and gotten the blueberry muffin that I currently held and was taking occasional bites out of. Wandering along, I'd slow down, listen for a second, then keep walking. I didn't know what I was looking for; I just knew I hadn't found it.   
But after a few minutes, I randomly selected a doorway and strode inside the building it opened into, listening intently for a hint of where I was.   
"Welcome to Great Heights Indoor Bungee Jumping, how can we help you?" Came a voice to my right. I turned, facing that direction.   
"Bungee jumping, you say?" I was intrigued. "Tell me more."   
"One hundred three dollars per hour per person, which includes the harness and cords. Children under sixteen must be attended by an adult, and let us know before signing up if you are on any medication, are pregnant, have any medical problems, experience nausea easily or if your vision is impaired."   
My heart, which had been rising hopefully at the prospect, sank into my stomach. Impaired vision. That was me. Was this just another thing I'd have to miss out on due to my blindness? I tried to keep my voice steady as I addressed the man. "So am I to let you know now, sir, that I am blind? Will this keep me from being able to jump here?" I held my breath and awaited his answer.  
"No, but you need a partner. For an additional fee of $29.95, you can get one of our guides here to help you..."   
I wrinkled my nose in distaste. I did not want to bungee jump for the first time with a complete stranger. The man continued to speak.   
"Or, if you are opposed to this idea, you can skydive with a non-vision-impaired adult, who also fills the rest of our requirements."   
I perked up at this. I could call someone. Steve, I thought immediately.   
Wait. I caught myself, wondering why I'd thought of Steve first. Claire was the obvious choice, but for some reason, some inexplicable reason, I wanted it to be Steve. I didn't know why. Actually, I think I did, but I refused to admit it to myself. Denial is a lovely place to live.   
I spoke again to the man. "So I could call a friend, right?" Just to be sure I hadn't misunderstood him.   
"Yes ma'am."   
"Thanks." I whipped out my phone, using voice control to call Steve. He picked up on the second ring.   
"Maya?" He said, clearly confused but sounding happy to hear from me, although that could have been wishful thinking. I really didn't know at this point.   
"Hey, Steve! So I need your help. Are you busy?"   
"No. What is it?"   
"I want to go bungee jumping but the guy here says I need a partner, because blind people can't bungee jump alone, or I can hire a guide, but I really would rather not hire a stranger, so can you come here and bungee jump with me? Please?" I added hopefully.   
He was silent for a minute. Then came his voice, sounding amused. "Sure. Where are you?"   
I told him the address, which I got from the staff guy. Steve chuckled slightly again before saying, "I'll be there in a few minutes," and hanging up. I sat down in a nearby chair to wait.   
•••••••••••••••••  
Minutes later, I heard Steve enter, recognizing his gait. "Steve!" I cried, jumping up and rushing to him. I threw my arms around him, enveloping him in a tight hug. I felt him hesitate before slowly settling his arms around me.   
"Thank you so much!" I cried. "Thank you thank you thank you!" I released him, grinning. He laughed.   
"No problem. But bungee jumping? Where did that come from?"   
"It's something I've always wanted to do," I said seriously. "I just didn't know it until now."   
He laughed again, and a shiver went down my spine. His laugh was beautiful, deep and rich and broad. I wanted to hear it again, and again. I didn't want it to end.   
But I was ripped from basking in his laugh by the staff guy, who said, irritated, "Are you guys planning to jump sometime today?"   
  I collected myself. "Yes, sir. Lead the way!" I held onto Steve's arm as the man led us to get out harnesses.  
  A few minutes later, with tight, sturdy harnesses strapped to our bodies, we ascended the stairs to the platform we'd be jumping off of. My heart pounded and my palms were damp. We walked to the edge, and I must have been showing my apprehension on my face because Steve reached over and took my hand, and cliche as it sounds, a warmth filled me and I wasn't afraid anymore. The staff guy-I wondered what his name was- gave the signal and we jumped, Steve never letting go of my hand.   
   Air rushed in my ears and my stomach flipped as we plummeted, but I was grinning widely. It was exhilarating, and we sped up, going faster and faster until the cord tightened and we slowed to a stop, me breathing hard, still gripping Steve's hand. I let out a laugh, high on adrenaline and utterly elated. "We have to do that again!"   
  We walked back up the stairs, lining up at the edge of the platform again. I gripped Steve's hand, smiling as he gave it a squeeze. We jumped, falling into the air, and I discovered something that stunned me.   
  With Steve by my side, I wasn't afraid to fall.


End file.
